


Beginnings and Ends

by RedMare



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, Emotional Sex, Graphic Description, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:09:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6653665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedMare/pseuds/RedMare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nihlus is at the end of his Spectre Training</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginnings and Ends

The council proceeding was exceptionally dull in spite of (or maybe even due to) the momentous affair that was inducting a new Specter into the ranks. Nihlus had a hard time keeping the yawn between his jaws; it would hardly look good for the honoree to be falling asleep at his own party. Councilor Tevos was stunning as usual but she had her political face on with no warm smiles for the young turian. Just as well, Nihlus thought, No need to go spreading rumors. Well, more rumors anyways. Valern was as stoic as a salarian could be, fidgeting in place while giving a didactic lecture on what it meant to be a Specter -As if I didn’t know it already, spending over two years in the company of the most distinguished Specter to date- And Sparatus wouldn’t shut up about “duty”. Just like Basic all over again… Finally the official proceedings were over and Nihlus was able to catch up to his mentor. Not that the older turian made it easy. He never made anything easy. 

Saren’s account of the past two years spent as Nihlus’ mentor was as austere and succinct as most of the training had been. His accomplishments had been given the same attention as his failures (Though I wish he would have glossed over those at the time…) which was to say, deadpan and monotone. As soon as his part was done, Saren had turned on his heal and stalked back through the assembled crowd. It was obvious he wanted to disappear as quickly as possible and the lucky bastard was able to do so unlike his poor protégé who was stuck standing at attention for the pleasure of people he didn’t care about in a ceremony he’d rather forgo for a commendation that he…ok actually it was pretty amazing achieving the one thing he wanted above anything else. Well, one of the things he wanted above all else…. 

During Nihlus’ induction, Saren had been as cold and distant as he always was when forced to deal with the Public. Nihlus could practically see the capitalization in the derision Saren displayed with his subtones. Thankfully most of the audience was non-turian and therefore didn’t notice the insult. Those that did either shared the same opinion or didn’t matter enough to have their opinions taken into account. 

Nihlus spent the better part of an hour socializing and gracefully accepting the kudos from the various diplomats and sycophants gathered to rub against the glory of others who had actually accomplished something with themselves. It was an hour of tedium for Nihlus. Normally he would have loved the attention from all the ladies (and no few of the men) but he found himself strangely preoccupied and a little off kilter from the heady mess of pride, shock and alcohol. After the fourth (of was it the fifth?) glass of something potent and inebriating, he finally saw the face he actually wanted to see. He abruptly disengaged from an elcor diplomat who was droning on, even for an elcor, and caught up to his mentor as Saren endeavored to use the shadows to leave the frivolity and façade of the Presidium.  
“Saren! Wait up a sec would ya?” Nihlus jogged over the dimly lit alcove. Saren turned, waiting for him to approach. Nihlus tried not to feel too thankful. His face was as inscrutable as always, the silver eyes giving nothing away. 

“Nihlus.” 

“I thought you were just going to take off and leave me to deal with the wrap up. Oh wait, it’s just like old times isn’t it. I shouldn’t be surprised you’d leave me with the boring shit.”

“I would have thought you’d enjoy all the attention. Besides, I already gave my report on your Specter commendation even if it was a verbatim repetition of the written report I already sent to the council weeks ago. There is no need for me to engage in this nonsense.” It was obvious from the set of his mandibles and tense shoulders that Saren was just as pleased with the audience and socializing as Nihlus was.

“You’re not even going to stick around to watch me fall on my face in front of all the nice diplomats? I thought you loved watching me fail. Come on, admit it. It’s the whole reason you kept me around all these years” he drawled in his most irritating tone, the one that seemed to grate on Saren in the early years. Thankfully all it earned him this time was a dismissive flick on the mandible and not a cuff upside the head.

“It would have been remise of my tutoring if I had failed to teach you how to deal with the upper echelon as well as how to best blow a mercenary’s head off at 200 meters. You should know that anything I do, I do thoroughly.”

“And with a healthy dose of batshit insanity and terror. Besides, I already knew how to woo some of the upper society.” A brief bout of silence and then, “And shoot! I’m better with the sniper rifle than you are.”

“Persuading promiscuous asari to sleep with you does not count as intelligent engagement. Even for you.” 

Oh, someone was in a good mood! Looking closer, Nihlus could see the glint of amusement flit across the senior Spector’s face. He felt a flush of pride at the thought that he had noticed it. Saren came across stoic and unemotional but in reality he was depth of sentiments. It was just that most people couldn’t or wouldn’t look past the scars and scowl to see it. Another rush of pride ran down his spine at the thought that Saren had let him see it. He could be a stone wall when he wanted to be and didn’t often let others get close enough to him to have a chance to see his depths.

Their banter had carried them down the atrium over towards one of the elevators. A quick glance over the shoulder confirmed that their presence wouldn’t be missed so they stepped in and Saren hit the button to take them down to restricted level on the wards. At Nihlus’ raised eye ridge Saren exhaled slightly and replied, “I figured you’d want to check out your new ship.”

“Actually I’ve already scoped it out. Not that it’s anything to brag about, just your basic three-man brig barely capable of FTL flight.” This earned him a raised eye ridge so he continued, “I, uh, maybe looked at a few files that I technically wasn’t cleared for at the time but you know, since it was all but official I figured I’d plead excited ignorance. Or soon-to-be Specter authority” Another snort was the only response and the rest of the ride continued in amicable silence. Thankfully the side elevators were much faster than the public counterparts and they soon arrived at a level patrolled only by C-sec and others with clearance. 

It felt good to be walking shoulder to shoulder with Saren. The turian tradition of the subordinate walking in front of the superior never rested well with Nihlus and with Saren’s predisposition towards sudden violence, it made it all the more uneasy. As it seemed that Saren’s attention was focused elsewhere as they strode down the mostly deserted tunnel, Nihlus took this time to covertly admire his mentor’s profile. 

His apprenticeship didn’t get off to the easiest start, especially with such a demanding and notorious teacher but eventually they found a kind of balance. The time had changed the both of them. Saren had seemed to tone down his violent tendencies and even seemed to trust him (even if he disagreed with Nihlus’ more diplomatic approaches to situations) whereas Nihlus had developed into an accomplished individual with an arsenal of proficiencies to deal with the situations presented. That didn’t mean that Nihlus didn’t know how to meet violence with violence where warranted. There were a few moments that even Saren seemed shocked by either the things Nihlus had seen when younger or his responses to some particularly nasty organizations. Ironically enough, some of his own ruthlessness had been tempered as Saren learned patience in dealing with his trainee and the insular focused mercenary outpost logic on which Nihlus had been born. 

Nihlus had come to respect Saren and his abilities in spite of the propensity for violence. One didn’t get the record for longest service by playing nice. At one point, Nihlus even thought there might have been more to those feelings for the Specter and in a rash moment of blind and misguided confidence had attempted to pursue those feelings. At first he thought Saren didn’t notice and endeavored to up the ante but his mistake became apparent when he proved that not only did he notice, he wasn’t interested in reciprocating those feelings. Saren had shut him down rather pointedly. Thankfully their developing friendship had been steady enough to survive the mess and after a few weeks of uncomfortable FTL travel the whole incident was left behind. It didn’t mean that Nihlus couldn’t look and occasionally entertain notions of what could have been.   
There was no doubt the pale turian was a striking individual. The vallhuvian horns, while indicative of genetic abnormalities in the turian race and the mark of an outside weren’t ugly to Nihlus. They fit the temperamental attitude of their owner and led to the visage of the ruthless Specter. The lack of colony markings likewise didn’t bother him despite even non-turians treating Saren him with the prejudice reserved for a bare-face. Saren didn’t seem to care one way or the other what others thought of him as long as the job got done but Nihlus noticed the stares and the lack of geniality when dealing with civilians. The white plates and un-pigmented hide helped lend to the illusion of ice stature which seemed to suit Saren just fine. 

o.O.o

Saren was too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice the less than platonic stares from his former student. There had been a time where he thought that Nihlus’ completion of training (or premature death) would have come as a relief and a return to normalcy, but now when faced with the end of it all, it wasn’t relief that was filling him. His stomach was in knots and tension was running throughout his body but he could not place a finger as to why. Perhaps is was just that he abhorred change and with Nihlus leaving on his own missions he would be faced with yet another change. Maybe it was due to apprehension for Nihlus. The Traverse was certainly full of dangers. Fear? Certainly not, what a ridiculous notion. 

Saren was proud of his protégée, really he was. Not all of his Specter recommendations made it through the training let alone apprenticeship required for all Specter candidates. Saren lost count of those that didn’t last long before the Council stopped requiring him to personally oversee the training of his recommendations. Nihlus not only survived, he had excelled at every task set to him. At least he had once he toned down his defensive attitude and learned to appreciate what Saren was offering: His Way or Spaced. It was no secret that Saren did not appreciate his motives or actions being called into question and damn his eyes if Nihlus didn’t have to ask Why? at nearly every opportunity. Later on, the whys turned into slightly more intelligent queries such as “Why did you blow up the entire transport ship to kill one man?” and the new troubles were those caused by differing viewpoints instead of lack thereof. Regardless of the differences, Nihlus had shed his mercenary outpost, pseudo-Hierarchy-based mindset and had become a shining example of what a Specter was to be. That didn’t mean he had to explicitly state it.

It hadn’t been an easy two years. Specters needed to be able to think outside certain parameters which meant they needed a certain mindset in order to do so. Part of the mindset involved free thinking and the ability to question orders which lead to obvious difficulties in training. More times than not, Saren wanted to run his claws over his face (or Nihlus’) in vexation. Once Saren had ascertained Nihlus’ innate abilities and skills the training had gone marginally better. Several months in Saren hadn’t been able to deny it any longer that Nihlus was an exemplary individual on the battlefield and fully deserving of all that Saren could offer. His respect for the young turian quickly rose and soon Saren found himself faced with the difficult task of finding suitably stimulating scenarios to challenge him. 

The other difficult task was more of a personal matter for Saren. His vivid colony marks set off his dark coloring and that combined with the vibrant personality underneath meant that Nihlus garnered a lot of attention wherever they happened to be. For a while Saren tried to tell himself that twinges in his gut were simply due to his distaste for people in general and not jealousy. When Nihlus began pursuing him, his ability to remain distant was sorely tested and it was only due to years of practice that he was able to do so. Certain instances had strained the barrier between friendship and more, but thankfully Nihlus ceased his pursuit after his recovery from the kidnapping. Saren wasn’t proud of how he had handled the situation but the deed was done. He wasn’t sure if he could have withstood a prolonged assault, there were certain areas inside him that ached for the comfort of more. 

Regardless, there were other partners at the various spaceports and his friendship with Nihlus was allowed to advance unencumbered with what-might-have-beens. Nihlus’ affable personality and genuine interest in Saren as a person and not as a spectacle allowed Saren to relax his guard without regretting it later. It was nice having reliable back up on the field but even more pleasant just having another presence on the ship. The menial tasks and maintenance became trivial with someone to talk or to just sit next to. As interesting as his VI was there was only so much in the vast emptiness of space. 

It was simple logic that prevented him from returning Nihlus’ attention. Saren had always lived a pragmatic lifestyle and attachments of any sort caused problems in his particular line of work. It still gave Saren nightmares thinking of the time Nihlus had been kidnapped. Seven days of torture on the off chance that “Navek” might have had some miniscule idea of Saren’s whereabouts had been a chilling reminder that he had made some powerful enemies who would stoop to any means to enact revenge. He was sick to think of what might they might do to anyone with a closer relationship to him if that knowledge ever became public. The thought of “what if” kept circling like a hungry varren, causing further distress to Saren’s nerves. What if they had been more? He firmly clamped down on that notion, wondering a bit at why it would reemerge after so long…They were friends and that’s the way it would stay. At least as long as Nihlus survived on his own.

o.O.o

When they arrived at the docking bay reserved for Nihlus, it wasn’t the standard issue ship that greeted them but rather a top of the line, strike class frigate usually reserved for Cabal or Spec Op groups. Nihlus couldn’t stop his jaw from gaping; he could tell that the armor plating was non-standard issue and, if he wasn’t mistaken, there were several concealed upgrades to the shield generators and kinetic barriers. He turned to Saren attempting to ask but all that could come out was a rough clicking sound from his sub-harmonics. Thankfully Saren could decipher what was going thru his friends mind.

“I am not in the habit of wasting time or resources; I have invested considerable amounts of both and I’ll be damned if I watch it all go to waste because the Council won’t equip a top operator with an adequate ship.” He ignored the slight flinch from Nihlus, most likely due to his vocabulary choice, and continued, “It is abhorable that new Specters are given the same gear as C-sec personnel while performing exponentially more dangerous work. You shouldn’t be wasting your resources on providing yourself with basic equipment in order to do your damned job when there is information to be sought. Since the Council forced your training upon me, it is also upon me to decide what equipment is needed for your assignments and missions.”

Nihlus was wondering if shock must have set in as Saren actually swore and confirmed it when Saren essentially complimented him. He knew he should be grateful not only for the ship but for Saren’s concern however all that came out was “Saren this ship must have cost, Spirits, thousands of credits! There is no way this was approved!” Smooth Nihlus, really tactful…

“You’re partially right. I told them to pay over the cost of that piece of rubbish they initially were going to give you and I put in for the rest.” Nihlus didn’t think his knees were going to continue to support him and staggered over to a nearby shipping crate to sit down. Saren continued, “I have made it a point to provide you with the best information, weaponry and skills so I don’t see why I should stop short at your transportation.”

“Saren this is…this…I-I don’t know what to say! You’ve done some insane things before but this! I don’t even…” Nihlus pulled his face out of his hands to stare at his friend. He knew his subtones were out of control and displaying his astonishment but he didn’t care. He looked to Saren, pleading for…for something but what he was pleading for eluded him. Again, Saren seemed to understand; after all, this wasn’t his usual modus operandi and he could understand the confusion. 

“Nihlus let me fill you in on a few details. Your official mission hasn’t been given to you yet but I too have looked into things I’m not supposed to know officially. They are sending you out into the Traverse.” Nihlus merely stared at him so he elaborated. “Most new Specters do a few years in Council space to ensure that their training is indeed complete. Traverse missions are not even an option for years for many Specters. The fact that they are sending you into the Traverse now means that they while see the abilities you possess, they are too sheltered, too removed in their fancy Presidium to truly understand what it is they are asking of you.” And me¸ but he didn’t say that. “It is an insult that they are sending you out so unprepared. I will not let you fail in that fashion nor will I allow you to be killed because of their incompetence and short-sidedness.” A piece of his mind wondered if training could ever truly be completed, if a mere ship would be the decisive factor in surviving the Travers. The thought of what he would do if the worst were to happen was flitting around but Saren refused to acknowledge it. 

Nihlus could only stare in astonishment and shock. He half wished he had grabbed a glass or three of whatever drink was at the party to bring with and half wished he hadn’t had anything to drink at all as it seemed like a dream or hallucination. Saren’s eyes had become bright with a fire that wasn’t often seen outside a battlefield and were boring into Nihlus, almost like he could pin him down on the storage crate to prevent him from leaving the Citadel. His posture was coiled, tense and his hands were clenched into fists as if to stand between Council and anyone else stupid enough to threaten Nihlus. This abrupt change in Saren’s demeanor was enough for Nihlus to almost forget about the ship and galvanized him to stand back up and approach Saren. However at his approach Saren seemed to realize his stance and the anger behind his words and retreated back into his reserved self and turned to stare at the ship. The fire was still in his eyes though, and there was a thread of tension running through him as evidenced by the tightness in the corners of his eyes and the set of his mandibles. 

Attempting to dispel some of the tension and nerves running thick through the air, Nihlus gave a short bark of laughter as he said, “Heh, so you do care huh? Could have fooled me those few times when you told me to take point on a few missions.” He cleared his voice to get rid of that irritating waver and continued, “Seriously Saren, you trained me, you should know that I can handle the Traverse. It’s practically your-our playground. And if all else fails, I can borrow your strategy of orbital bombardment. No tact or diplomacy required in the Traverse.” Apparently it was the wrong thing to say as Saren whirled to face him again. 

Saren advanced upon his former protégé, matching him step for step as he backed up, do doubted startled. “Don’t you get it? You’ll be on your own out there with no reliable intel, no support and no back up! If you get into a pinch I won’t be able to,-I won’t, you’ll—” He couldn’t seem to finish. He started at Nihlus, mouth moving but no sound emitting. Get a hold of yourself! He doesn’t need your issues! He backed away, rolling his shoulders. “Never mind. Come inside, there is another thing I need to show you.” He stalked away without looking to see if Nihlus was following. He breathed deep, trying to calm his racing pulse. 

Nihlus took a few deep breaths before stepping inside the air lock, absentmindedly confirming the top of the line specs while trying to rationalize Saren’s uncharacteristic behavior. He was never so, demonstrative before. Nihlus knew Saren considered him a friend and competent soldier but this went beyond professional concern and was frankly disquieting. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Saren seemed worried about him. Why would that be? He knows what I’m capable of! Why would he doubt me now? He found the Specter in the cockpit and approached. Saren still had his back to him but glanced over his shoulder as he approached. “Here. I may have misspoke about the lack of support.” At the press of a few buttons a VI interface popped up. There was something strangely familiar about it though and it only took half a minute for Nihlus to realize it was a copy of Saren’s own VI system, Cabal. 

Saren had never mentioned where he had found the prototype but it seemed like it when beyond the capabilities of a normal VI. It wasn’t uncommon for Saren to program the thing to allow it to make the precise decisions required for interstellar travel and even on a few times allowed it to dock the ship. At the beginning his training, Nihlus had chalked up the irritable interface to the programing error but as he progressed he had started to wonder if it was a learned behavior from its owner’s own surly personality. It did seem like it responded in a slightly more congenial manner to Nihlus as he had always addressed it civilly. (Rule #1: always treat the unknown with respect.) Regardless, it had proven itself more than capable and worth the occasional insolence. 

“I can’t imagine you’d ever part with Cabal, you two made such a cute couple.” The joking tone fell flat but Saren didn’t seem to notice.

“No. We’ve spent the past few months working on a duplicate program. You need something to depend on and Cabal was the only thing up for the task. This is Cab.V2.”

“Original” At least he’s returning to normal. Well as “normal” as Saren can be...

: This is just a prototype designation. You may update some of my system information as you see fit: Nihlus started at little at the “VI’s” intuitive response: it seemed like it and Cabal shared a few similarities. 

“I’ll come back to that in a bit when I’m a little less preoccupied. Resume offline mode until further notice.”

: Logging you out:

“I always wondered about you and Cabal. It seemed a little too intelligent for just a VI.” Saren just looked at him with a hard stare. “I’m not gonna rat you or it out now, Spirits it’s been two years! If I haven’t done it by now do you really think I’d do so now? I know you like to play fast with the rules”

“I do what is necessary. This should give you half a chance out there. You’ve been a good friend.” Saran turned and made to brush past seeming to be ready to just walk out of Nihlus’ life as suddenly as he entered it. Nihlus couldn’t take it anymore.

He reached out to grab Saren’s shoulder and pushed him up against the bulkhead. “That’s it? You’re just going to drop this bombshell on me and walk out? ‘Here’s an advanced warship with a potentially illegal AI-Don’t fuck it up!’ Spirits Saren what about the past two years?!” The words were incredulous, angry but his subtones were wounded and questioning.

“You said it yourself Nihlus. I’ve trained you to the best of my abilities; it is now up to you to make something of yourself with.” Saren’s voice was flat and he wouldn’t look at Nihlus. He clearly wished to leave yet remained rooted to the floor. 

“Bullshit. This isn’t like you. You don’t give anyone this much of an edge. What’s going on? You’re acting like we’ll never see each other again!”

“You should know better than to think that the life of a Specter will be easy.”

“Of course I’m aware of that, I’ve got the scars to prove it! Spirits Saren, even you have to report back to the Citadel on occasion! What’s to say we can’t have a drink when we’re both there?”

“Specters are not suited for attachments. Even if you can maintain a level head, they can be used against you, used to hurt you.” Saren still wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead he seemed focused inwardly, as if arguing with himself. 

“Saren this is beyond paranoid, even for you! You can’t expect to make it long in this world without someone to talk with, confide in. Hell, we could even team up on a mission every once in a while!”

“That’s assuming you make it back from this one!” Saren roared, finally looking Nihlus in the eyes. His self-possession was gone and Nihlus could see fear in his eyes. It stunned him for a second, forcing him to take a step back. It was all the opening Saren needed.

o.O.o

Saren had tried to keep the insidious voice in the back of his mind quiet but it refused to back down. Even before he learned of the posting, even before the training ended, Saren had been ambushed by these thoughts. Thoughts if Nihlus getting injured, dying, out in the Traverse kept assailing him, making his shoulders tense and his head ache. He tried to be pragmatic about it, tried to tell himself that if Nihlus did die out there then he was never suited for the task. Could-have-beens had no place in a Specter’s life he reminded himself, no matter how tempting it was. Besides, Nihlus was attractive, he’d find someone else, someone less volatile, less flawed. But even when Nihlus had found others to spend his nights with during his training, Saren wasn’t happy. He wanted to be the one to hold him close, caress the soft suppleness of his fringe, drag his tounge down that long neck….

Distractions are dangerous. How many times had he told Nihlus that? Don’t get involved if you can’t do your job. Rules to live by, rules to keep yourself alive. And he was breaking them. He realized he was involved with Nihlus too late to put an end to it but he could keep it from progressing further. Or at least he thought he could. All he could think of now was how that brown skin would taste under his tongue. So be it. If he was to be distracted by the green eyed turian he may as well know what it could be rather than wondering. He lunged at Nihlus, his arms clamping down on his shoulders, forcing him back against the other bulkhead. Neither of them were wearing armor and the lack of hard suits allowed Saren to press into Nihlus’ chest. 

Nihlus could feel the heat radiating off him, feel the intensity of Saren’s gaze as he stared into his own. “It would have been wrong for me to have reciprocated your attentions last year and it would be foolish for me to start now.” Saren’s voice was barely above a whisper, almost as if he was speaking to himself. “Attachments are foolish in this line of work, even friendships. This was a mistake from the beginning but it’s too late now. It seems my choices lie in one mistake or another.”   
Nihlus was glad for Saren’s bruising grip on him; he wasn’t sure he’d be upright without it. It didn’t seem like Saren was even looking at him but rather though him as he argued with himself, breathing heavily. Nihlus’ mouth was dry and his own breath coming in gasps. He couldn’t even give voice to the litany of questions running through his head namely why?! 

Saren continued. “Attachments are distractions but I can’t deny this any longer and I can’t let it get in the way of my future missions. My dear friend, forgive me.” The last was ragged gasp before he plunged in and pressed his mouth to Nihlus’. 

It was hard and demanding, almost desperate, and relentless. Nihlus found his mouth pried open as Saren’s tongue invaded his mouth and all he would do was voice a ragged whimper. Saren relaxed his grip on his arms only to move one to cup his face and the other to reach behind his waist and pull Nihlus even tighter against him. The ceremonial robes that Saren wore did little to conceal the insistent hardness that was now pressing into him as well. Nihlus jerked backwards but Saren followed him back until he was pressed between the firm bulkhead and the unyielding turian. 

Part of his mind exploded in lust and desire having wanted to pursue Saren for so long but the sudden attack was so out of context, so out of the blue that he couldn’t bring himself to give in. It took him a moment to realize that the lust filled moan came from him although Saren was rumbling deep in his chest as his mouth continued to work against his. He moved his arms up to Saren’s shoulders and wasn’t sure if it was to push him off or pull him closer. The decision was made for him when a strong thigh forced itself between his and up into his crotch. He finally breaks contact with Saren’s face in a ragged whimper, panting and gasping, “S-saren, what are you-, what are y-you, oh fuck!” as Saren pressed his leg further into Nihlus, his hands moving down to kneed his waist. 

“Quiet! Jus- just hnngh…Spirits” Biotic sparks are rolling off Saren in waves, in time with his heartbeat. Oh Spirits, he tastes amazing, he smells amazing. Pheromones were spilling off of Nihlus’ skin, tantalizing and ensnaring him. He couldn’t control himself. It was supposed to be just a kiss, just one, but oh the sounds Nihlus made as he held him. His tightly held control was slipping in every regard. 

Saren’s biotics tangled and stung when they come into contact with Nihlus’ skin and he couldn’t decide if he welcomed their touch for the distraction or because it felt so fucking good. Before he could decide, the hand behind his head moved up to grasp his fringe and pulled his head back sharply. His growl of surprise was cut off when Saren clamped his jaws over Nihlus’ neck. His knees went out completely, the pale turian the only thing keeping him upright with his strong thigh, his arm a solid weight behind him. It became impossible to tell which moan of lust came from which throat. Nihlus’ vision flickered and a roaring sound flooded his ears. He could feel his own plates shifting, a new presence making itself known. Desperately he fought his way back to awareness, clenching down on his shifting plates, biting back a moan. Headless of the mouth of sharp teeth on his neck, he feebly attempted to push Saren off of him.

He was so wrapped up in the sounds, the taste, the whole experience that it took Saren a minute to realize that Nihlus was attempting to move away from him. He pulled back to stare at Nihlus for a minute before backhanding him across the face. Sudden fury welled up in Saren. Isn’t this what he had wanted all those months ago? He knew it was irrational, that he was irrational. He needed to make this up to Nihlus, salvage this somehow, even though it was impossible.   
The stinging force spun Nihlus around and he caught himself, barely, against the control panel of the cockpit. He hissed, spit out a “Shit!” before Saren was once again on him, pulling his arms back behind him, forcing his chest down. One hand held the both of his at his lower back as the other pawed and grasped at the waist line of his pants. A flash of adrenaline shot through the dark turian and he struggled to stand back up. A hard growl and rougher shove sent him back face down on the console and Saren’s teeth once again closed down on the back of his neck. 

Saren’s hand resumed its previous task, grasping and pulling at the clasps designed to keep turian clothing on. A few slashes, a couple rips and Nihlus felt his pants grow slack enough around his hips that Saren was able to pull them down, exposing the dark skin to a rough palm. Before he could stop himself, Nihlus bucked his hips back into closer contact with the hand stroking his seam. Part of his mind still rebelled against the whole situation but held paralyzed by the shock and lust racing in his veins. Nihlus pressed his forehead hard against the console, groaning, as a thick finger reached down and pressed against the slick and rapidly widening gap. Although part of him wanted this and he could feel himself rapidly losing control of the muscles down there, Saren didn’t seem content with the slow progression and with a growl pressed a finger up and in, forcing a howl of pained lust from his throat. The battle lost between Nihlus and control of his plates, a slick rush he emerges from behind his protective plates. A second finger found its way inside, stretching and searching for that particularly infamous nerve cluster. 

The brief stint of pain passed in a rush and Nihlus couldn’t stop himself from arching his back, thrusting his hips down and back, desperate for more contact with those damned fingers. Satisfied that he was no longer fighting him, Saren released Nihlus’ neck and drew a hot tongue from the inside of his cowl to the underside of his fringe, rumbling over his breath. Nihlus attempted to hold in his own vocalizations but Saren was relentless in thrusting his fingers in further and harder, rocking Nihlus against the console, nibbling along the sensitive skin on the back of his neck. Saren released Nihlus’ hands to reach down and drag his talon along Nihlus’ length briefly before having to catch him around the belly as once again Nihlus knees gave out and he was unable to catch himself even with both his arms now free. He arched against Saren, bracing his trembling arms as best he could. 

Once Nihlus was braced against the console Saren resumed plunging his fingers in hard and fast while his other hand firmly clamped down around Nihlus now aching member. Nihlus arched his back as the new angle was just enough that Saren’s fingers finally reached that special spot buried deep inside every turian and with an almost pained cry, Nihlus came, shuddering and jerking in Saren’s arms. Blackness once again attempted to close over Nihlus’ vision and he couldn’t get enough oxygen into his lungs. Wave after wave crashed through him, endorphins running rampant over the shock but no less paralyzing. 

As his knees hit the floor the haze cleared a bit and he realized Saren had pulled him away from the console and had lowered him to the floor of the cockpit, still pressed against his back, the heat penetrating deep into his plates. Still wrapped up in his post-orgasm fog, Nihlus found that his arms and legs were trembling and it was all he could do to support himself on all fours. He felt Saren lining up his erection with his opening but could do little more than gasp “Saren! Wait-!” before a thick hardness entered him as Saren leaned into him, forcing his chest back down onto the floor. Immediately Saren plunged into him, nasal grunts in time with each thrust. Nihlus felt himself rocking against the ship’s floor but couldn’t seem to do anything about it. Thanks to a turian’s natural lubrication, it didn’t hurt but it doesn’t exactly feel good until-

“Hnngh! Ah fuck!” Nihlus involuntarily arched back as he was rammed in that damned spot again.

Saren paused in his relentless pace for a moment, shocked out of his own haze and half afraid he’d harmed his friend and immediately flinched. How can I even call him that anymore? He can feel his release burning throughout his entire body, crying out for relief but he couldn’t move, couldn’t continue and couldn’t disengage. His body demanded he resume but his psyche wouldn’t allow him to continue with this, this….He needed to stop, needed to-

“Don’t you dare fucking stop!” Nihlus shifted his weight back, pushing deeper. “Hngh-shit! Keep going!” 

Saren groaned at the words. They were what he both wanted and feared to hear. He renewed his grasp on Nihlus’ hips and slammed into him again. The dark turian was rendered speechless, mandibles gaping in silent ecstasy. That wouldn’t do, he needed to hear more of those sounds, more encouragement. He could barely hold his own sounds in, that tight entrance held him so forcefully, Nihlus’ subtones encouraging him to continue. How? How can he keep wanting this? How can he still want me?

Each thrust brought Saren in contact with the bundle of nerves buried deep inside Nihlus. His breaths were coming in pants, all he could do was gasp Saren’s name over and over. All at once it was too much; Nihlus’ vision went black as his release washed over him again, spilling into the grates. Nihlus choked on his voice, clamping down even tighter around the member still buried inside him. 

Saren could no longer hold his own back. The chant of his name, spoken with those harmonics, was enough to drive anyone made and with a roar Saren emptied himself, each pulse stronger than the previous. His claws tensed and he howled, biotics continuing to roll across his body and Nihlus’ until at long last he quieted. He slumped down over the warm back underneath him, his own knees unable to support him and just sat for a minute. 

What seemed like an eternity later, Saren came back to himself as he felt Nihlus shift slightly under him. Immediate revulsion at himself set in and he flung himself back to his feet, unsuccessfully trying to ignore how Nihlus flinched. How could he have done this? Any of this? Why did he allow himself to give into the irrational paranoia? Why hadn’t he just cut ties, slipped away during the ceremony? He could have done it easily but part of him knew that he lingered in the hopes that Nihlus would come. He barely heard the quiet moan from Nihlus over the sounds of his own harsh breathing. He wanted to reach out, stroke his broad back, offer what apologies he could, beg Nihlus’ forgivness but he couldn’t do more than raise his arm briefly before dropping it again. Coward. Swallowing harshly, he refastens his pants and straightens his clothing. Nihlus is still kneeling on the ground. A raged keen wells its way up his throat, he can’t keep it in, and so turns, fleeing the ship. He can’t look back. He knows there is no going back now.

o.O.o

Nihlus remained kneeling on the floor of his new ship. His body hummed contentedly from the double orgasm, but he can’t even begin to sort the thoughts whirling in his head. When he had first realized the attraction he felt towards Saren he never thought it would lead to…whatever this was. He knew Saren had issues with any sort of intimacy, knew he was crazy to pursue the Specter, but still he had tried. But then Saren had made it abundantly clear that he did not reciprocate the feelings and now this happened. For over a year they had developed their friendship, working on it to make it strong but he didn’t know if it was strong enough to withstand this. Anyway he looked at this, this was the end of their friendship. It was still unclear if it was the beginning of something else. 

Like a human’s hamster on a wheel, Nihlus’ thoughts kept going back to Saren yelling out his name as he climaxed. HIS name! What on Palevan was that about? Going off vocal cues alone, it was obvious lust ridden passion but his subtones told a tale of an attachment, a longing, an affection not uncommon in a bonded pair. Did Saren really feel that? Nihlus knew fear could do warped things a person’s mind but an attachment like that wasn’t something happenstance. It took time and nurturing to develop, conscious input. Was Saren hiding these feelings from him? Had he been hiding them from himself? 

With a grunt (and grimace of distaste for what leaked out around his now sealed plates) Nihlus staggered to his feet, using the console to pull himself upright. Absently he pulled the remainder of his pants back over his hips. They wouldn’t stay there long as too many of the fastenings had ripped but it didn’t matter once he sat down. A few presses of the haptic interface and the surveillance logs for the ship appeared. A few more taps and the interface shows Saren and Nihlus standing in the cockpit looking at the VI. Nihlus pause the playback.

After a minute, he makes a few more taps and the footage from the past 20 minutes was erased the VI’s storage banks as well as the ships mainframe. He had debated about watching it, trying to look for clues to decipher what had caused this but for now it was too fresh. He knew he could watch it later but he flinched from the thought. Maybe he didn’t want to know. Nihlus shut down the console and made his way to the onboard shower shedding clothes with each step. It was easy to find as the layout was exactly likes Saren’s ship but Nihlus’ thoughts shyed away from that comparison.

Since the ship was docked at an actual station, real water poured from the head instead of de-con mist. The water is hot, probably too hot, and it feels fantastic as it pelts his shoulders and runs down his back. The thoughts are still whirling in his head and in a vain attempt to stem the tide, Nihlus presses his forehead into the tile surround. He wants to close his eyes but every time he does he sees Saren’s eyes boring into him with a frenzied look. His gut twists and he’s not sure if it’s with lust, revulsion or just confusion. So he settles for staring at the grey tile. 

Eventually even the station runs out of hot water. Nihlus stays in until the water is absolutely frigid. Nothing has settled in his mind but at least it is all just a gray, static buzz. Not even bothering with a towel, he makes his way back to the front of the ship. He shivers in the cold air and absentmindedly notices the VI turn up the thermostat as he sits in the pilot’s chair. He notices smudges on the console and knows that if he looks at the floor he’ll find other signs of mess. He knows he needs to clean it up. Saren would never allow such a mess on his ship. He remains seated. 

Eventually his plates are dry and as much as he would like to just sit in this cockpit for the rest of his days, he does have things he needs to do, a mission to get prepped for. Instead he pulls up the comm. program, pulls up Saren’s secured channel.   
BEGIN LOGGING AT 22/03/74 16:32:57

>>ENCRYPTION PROTOCOL STR0043-F-L ENABLED  
>>SEND CONFIRMATION WHEN READ? N/Y: N  
>>REVISION: SEND CONFIRMATION WHEN READ? N/Y: Y  
>>BEGIN NEW MESSAGE: “New Ship”

Spirits I’m so fucked up. But so are you so we’re a great pair.   
>>LINE ERASE  
When I’m back from this mission we need to talk.   
>>LINE ERASE  
This doesn’t change anything. Ok it doesn’t change much. I’ll be back after the mission is done. You know how to reach me.   
-N


End file.
